


icarus

by Candybara



Category: Original Work
Genre: Depression, Gen, Mythological References, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-24 03:10:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18160709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candybara/pseuds/Candybara
Summary: a poem about depression, expectation, and freedom.





	icarus

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably the part where I'm supposed talk about how I don't feel entirely comfortable posting poetry here, given that it's so vastly different from my usual works, but... I've been in a bit of a vulnerable state lately, so here's something that I wrote a while ago, when I was having a really hard time with life.
> 
> Unfortunately, it's still somewhat relevant, but I'll be okay.

i’m born against my will to the towering walls of a labyrinth that you call talent. the shadow of my potential looms over me, but there’s no light to guide me. only the darkness. only the weight on my shoulders. only the threat of failing to move forward.

you tell me that there’s nothing to be afraid of, but i try to walk a straight path and i scrape my knees on stone barriers, and i wear the bruises like a coward. i tell you that it hurts to try and it hurts to do, but you just call me a brat, and i’m forced to pretend that my pain is enough.

and yet i know that it’s not, so i sit alone in the corners of my mind until you pry me out of my shell and throw me into the sky. i am to cultivate your ambitions, your goals, your hopes and dreams, and i am to make them mine as well. i am to have greatness thrust upon me until there’s nowhere to go but down, down into the dirt, into the fire.

at first it’s the gunpowder that catches, sparks, combusts, and it’s injustice that consumes me and it’s rage that sets me ablaze. i scream at the gods and i beg for answers, and i scream and i beg and i cry and i burn myself out. and then it’s all over, and i’m back to soaring through the clouds, because it’s my destiny to fly into the sun.

now i simply melt. the wax, the glue that holds me together, oozes down my spine like acid, and i watch as my wick turns to ash, as piece by piece of me crumbles and drifts off into the cold, unforgiving wind. i drip away and it’s slow, and it’s agonizing, but you tell me that there’s no such thing as mercy in reality, and i believe you for the longest time.

i’m born against my will to a nest of thorns that bleeds and bleeds and bleeds me dry. despair picks away at me and i sob until i’m empty, until there’s nothing left. and then what? i could carry the earth on my back and you’d still blame me for letting your world crush my bones into dust.

i’ll never be the angel that you want to see in me. my feathers are matted with mud and tears and bitterness. the bitterness that you planted. the bitterness that fills me, stunts me, devours me.

i brandish the knife that tears through my chest. my wings are clipped, and i hold my head high and i stare through your scowl, and i threaten to cut them off entirely.

success is not a ladder, it’s a guillotine. and i refuse to half-ass my own destruction.


End file.
